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| Aire and Angels. |
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| Twice or thrice had I loved thee, |
| Before I knew thy face or name; |
| So in a voyce, so in a shapelesse flame, |
| Angels affect us oft, and worship'd bee, |
| Still when, to where thou wert, I came, |
| Some lovely glorious nothing I did see, |
| But since, my soule, whose child love is, |
| Takes limbes of flesh, and else could nothing doe, |
| More subtile then the parent is, |
| Love must not bee, but take a body too, |
| And therefore what thou wert, and who |
| I bid Love aske, and now |
| That it assume thy body, I allow, |
| And fixe it selfe in thy lip, eye, and brow. |
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| Whilst thus to ballast love, I thought, |
| And so more steddily to have gone, |
| With wares which would sinke admiration, |
| I saw, I had love pinnace overfraught, |
| Every thy haire for love to worke upon |
| Is much too much, some fitter must be fought; |
| For, nor in nothing, nor in things |
| Extreme, and scattring bright, can love inhere; |
| Then as an Angell, face, and wings |
| Of aire, not pure as it, yet pure doth weare, |
| So thy love may be my loves spheare; |
| Iust such disparitie
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[CW: As] |